The Step After Denial
by songofhell
Summary: Dean Winchester could not believe that Crowley had got him into bed, and more than that, he couldn't believe that he had enjoyed it. It was just a one time thing, though... right?
1. One-Time Deal

"Crowley, you bastard!"

A mildly offended expression crossed Crowley's face. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," Dean snapped.

"I have done nothing but help you."

"Yeah, and you helping has gotten me beat up and has put me at Death's mercy!"

"Oh, it all worked out in the end. No need to be so touchy."

Dean shook his head, pure rage showing on his face. "My brother is in the cage; that is not working out!"

"That was the plan, was it not?"

"Yeah, the plan that I was pressured into agreeing to."

"Look, Dean, I would love to help you, I really would, but I don't have the power to get Sam out without bringing out the devil too. And in case I haven't made myself clear, I'm not doing that."

Dean may had promised Sam that he would get on with his life after he was gone, but he couldn't. It was his job to protect Sammy, and now he was in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. So he had summoned Crowley. After all, he had played a major role in them putting the devil back in the cage. They had worked together, and Dean was a firm believer that the devil (or demon) you know is better than the one you don't.

"Then what does have the power?"

Crowley sighed. "I don't know. And I'm telling you the truth here. I like you, Dean, you're not bad, for a hunter."

"I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

Crowley shrugged. "Take it how you will. Are you going to let me out of this thing?" He looked pointedly down at the devil's trap.

Dean sighed and bent down to scrape some of the paint away. He wasn't sure why he was so readily trusting the demon, but whatever the reason, he did trust Crowley – to a point, at least. He knew that Crowley had no reason to lie to him about this, and if he really wanted to kill him, he had had plenty of opportunities to do so. Although, he no longer had any use for Crowley, so why he wasn't killing him was another matter – one that he really didn't have an answer for.

"Thank you," Crowley said, taking a step outside of the trap and turning to face Dean,

Dean looked up at him in slight surprise. He had expected Crowley to vanish in his normal manner, not stick around to chat.

"There has to be something I can do," Dean tried again, his desperation seeping into his voice. There was always something, they had always been able to save each other.

Crowley looked almost sympathetic as he shook his head. "There's nothing." Dean looked down, suddenly wanting to be alone. He looked up again in surprise, though, as Crowley placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't flinch away, despite all of his instincts screaming at him to kill the demon who was touching him. "Sulking isn't a good look for you, dear. I think you need a distraction."

Dean didn't have it in him to argue. "What did you have in mind?"

His grip on the human tightened ever so slightly and then they were outside Crowley's favorite bar, an upscale place in St. Louis, Missouri. Dean looked around in surprise, his stomach spinning uncomfortably. "What the fuck, Crowley?" he demanded.

"I wasn't in the mood to argue about it. Besides, you'll enjoy this."

"Drinking with a demon? I draw the line at working with them."

"Then make an exception." Without another word, Crowley turned and walked into the bar, holding the door open for Dean, who reluctantly followed.

Crowley got them his normal VIP table and ordered them both drinks, deciding that Dean needed to try something different from his normal cheap liquor. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this. Maybe he just thought that it would be amusing to push Dean outside his comfort zone, but he knew that it was more than that. He'd deal with that later, though.

"Trust me, it's better than the shit you usually drink," Crowley said when Dean eyed his drink skeptically.

"There's nothing wrong with what I usually drink," Dean protested, but raised his glass to his lips, nonetheless. He took a sip and then a larger drink, trying to hide from the demon sitting across from him that he did actually quite like it. It was no use, though, and Crowley smirked as he picked up his own drink.

They drank in silence that was, oddly enough, not awkward. It almost felt natural for the demon and the hunter to be in the bar together. Dean knew that he was safe, that Crowley wasn't going to try anything, and he was perfectly comfortable getting lost in his thoughts about Sam. Crowley, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out why he was doing this for somebody who would rather he be dead than sitting across from him right now. Dean flagged over the waiter to get another drink, and Crowley went ahead and got another too.  
>He eyed the hunter as the waiter walked away and he started in on his drink.<p>

"You're moping," he accused.

Dean set his drink back down on the table a little harder than was necessary. "What am I supposed to be doing, Crowley?"

"I brought you here to get your mind off of everything."

"And why is that? Why do you even care?"

Great question, Crowley thought to himself. "Because contrary to popular belief, I do care."

"Bullshit. You're a demon, you're not capable of caring."

For some reason, the remark angered him more than it should. "Fine," he snapped. "Because everyone who knows anything about you agrees that on Dean Winchester's good side is a good place to be."

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You think taking me to a bar is going to get a slimy demon like you on my good side?"

"Dean, we've already worked together, I'm already where I need to be, I'm just ensuring I stay there."

Dean wanted to protest, but there was nothing he could say. He had already proven Crowley's point earlier that day when he had let him out of the devil's trap instead of killing him like he easily could have. He sighed. "I figured you'd want me off my game."

"Not if I ever need your help."

"Yeah? Well, you may be out of luck."

"And why is that?"

"I promised Sam that I'd get a normal life."

"And that's what you want?"

Dean looked Crowley in the eyes. "Yes."

"Then live your dream. I'll do what I can to keep other demons away from you." He had said it without thinking, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn't.

"Why the hell would you do that? I won't be helping you any. Once I give up hunting, I'm giving it up for good."

"I realize that. Consider it a thank-you gift for locking Lucifer up."

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a few moments before deciding to trust him. "Whatever," he muttered before downing the rest of his drink.

"Where will you go?" Crowley asked after a couple more drinks.

"There's this girl – Lisa… if she'll take me back."

Crowley grimaced. "Good luck with that."

Dean nodded his thanks. "Can't go to her tonight, obviously," he mused, staring down at his fourth empty glass. And it wasn't like they were drinking beer, it was some of the highest alcohol content offered here. "And I don't want to go back to Bobby's – it reminds me too much of Sam. I'll have to get a hotel room."

"There is a fourth option. You could always stay with me."

Dean looked up in surprise. "Why do I feel like this is the option that gets me killed by a hoard of demons?"

"Because you aren't very trusting. It'll be just you and me – no other demons. Lucifer burnt down my house, so I'm thinking of finding an apartment tonight to stay in until I find a new one."

Dean sighed. "Okay, fine, why not? What's the worst that can happen?"

* * *

><p>Crowley pushed Dean down onto the bed roughly, glaring down at him. "Do not speak to me like that in my own house," he growled.<p>

"House?" Dean scoffed, honestly not caring what happened to him. "This is an apartment, and one that you hardly own, at that. When you really think about it, you have nothing." He pushed himself up on his forearms and smirked up at the demon.

"Yes, because that's what I get for helping you!"

"Oh, don't try to pin this on me-"

"How about you try to show a bit of gratitude? You wouldn't have made it anywhere near as far as you did if it wasn't for me."

"Or maybe we would have."

Anger seemed to peak on Crowley's features before he became deadly calm. He took off his coat, suit jacket, and tie, laying them neatly over a chair and kicked his shoes and socks off. Dean was coming to his senses and was growing nervous, but before he could move, Crowley waved his hand and he was pinned to the bed by an invisible force. The demon turned back to his prey and walked slowly over to the edge of the bed, raising his hand once he reached it and snapping his fingers. Immediately, Dean's clothes disappeared, tearing an indignant squeak from him.

"What the hell?" he demanded furiously.

Crowley just smirked as his eyes ran obviously over Dean's body. "I have to say, Dean, I thought your attitude was your way of compensating, but it appears I was wrong." He met his eyes. "You are gorgeous."

"What are you doing?" Dean snarled through clenched teeth.

"Teaching you a lesson. You will learn to respect me."

"Torture?" he guessed. Though why he had to be naked for torture he didn't know. Maybe it just made things more amusing.

Crowley's smirk grew. "Not exactly." With that, he made no further delay before climbing onto the bed and straddling Dean.

Dean's eyes grew comically wide as realization sunk in. "No. No way. Get off of me, Crowley, this isn't funny!"

"I'm not trying to be funny," he purred as he leaned down and pressed his lips to his neck.

Dean felt his cock twitch in spite of himself and he tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why Crowley was having this effect on him. "Look, you-you've made your point. You may or may not know this, but I'm straight!"

"Is that so?" He ground down against Dean's semi-hard cock, eliciting a delicious gasp from the human trapped below him. "Your body seems to think differently."

Dean whimpered as Crowley bit down on his neck, but he couldn't deny that the demon was right. He didn't know why, but his body was responding to Crowley quite enthusiastically. He was at war with himself. Crowley's lips felt so good against him; he could feel the demon's erection through his pants and he just wanted his clothes to come off. But he was a demon, and a demon in a male body. This was wrong on so many levels.

"Fuck!" Dean gasped loudly as Crowley suddenly reached down between them and wrapped a hand around his cock. His hips arched off the bed as Crowley stoked him and he realized that Crowley wad no longer pinning him to the bed with the demonic force that he possessed. He wasn't sure how long it had been so, but he could now move freely.  
>Fuck it, he decided in that moment. He had enough alcohol in his system that he could blame it on that if he felt too bad about it later. His hands shot up and he began hastily undoing the buttons of Crowley's shirt. The demon froze in surprise for a moment before he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting Dean's uncertainly. Dean held his gaze as he finished with the buttons of his shirt, then his hand moved up to wrap around the back of his head, tangling in his hair as he pulled him down into a kiss.<p>

Who would have thought that a demon would be such an amazing kisser, but Crowley certainly was. Dean moaned into the kiss as he pushed Crowley's shirt off and then moved his hands down to his pants, a bit surprised when that caused him to groan. Had he seriously just cause one of the most powerful demons in the world to groan? That was hot.  
>He pushed down Crowley's pants and boxers and immediately took hold of his cock, pumping his hand over it teasingly slowly. Crowley growled as he broke the kiss. He grabbed hold of both of Dean's wrists, pinning his arms down to the bed as he ground his cock down against his. They both groaned loudly at the friction and Crowley lowered his lips back down to Dean's neck, biting and kissing at his neck and jaw.<p>

"Do you want me to fuck you, Dean?" he breathed in his ear.

Dean shuddered and nodded. There was still a part of him that couldn't believe he was doing this, but all that really mattered to him right now was how much he wanted Crowley inside him.

He let go of Dean's wrist with one hand, bringing it down to tease suddenly lube-covered fingers over his hole. He slowly slid one finger inside and Dean's free hand shot up, gripping Crowley's shoulder in a death grip. After a minute of slowly moving his finger inside him and listening to his beautiful moans, he added another.

"I know you can be louder than that, Dean," he purred.

Dean let out a shout as his fingers suddenly slammed into his prostate.

"Good boy." He repeated the action a couple more times.

"Crowley! Fuck me!"

Crowley groaned, speeding up his actions, hitting hard and causing Dean to squirm beneath him. "Are you going to respect me?" he hissed.

"Yes!" He would say anything at this point, and the problem was, Crowley knew that.

"What do you have to say about everything I did to help you?" He continued thrusting, harder still.

"Thank you! Just please, Crowley."

Crowley shuddered at hearing him beg. He wanted to push it farther, to drive his point home completely, but he wanted Dean just as badly as he wanted him. He withdrew his fingers, causing Dean to moan at the loss, and coated his cock with the lube that he was materializing. He released Dean's other wrist as well, using both his hands to grip his hips as he thrust into him with a loud groan.

Dean shouted in a combination of pleasure and pain as Crowley filled him. Crowley gave him a moment to adjust, marveling at his tightness, but he couldn't stay still very long. Dean felt so amazing surrounding him and he needed friction. He began moving within him at a fast pace, drawing grunts and groans from them both.

Crowley's hands slid up over Dean's chest, one hand moving up to grip his hair tightly while the other pinched his nipple. Dean gripped Crowley's hips tight enough to leave bruises, had he been human.

"Fuck, Crowley!" Dean shouted as Crowley slammed into his prostate particularly hard. "Just like that!"

Crowley pushed himself up and grabbed hold of Dean's legs, wrapping them around himself to get a better angle, shuddering and moaning loudly at the change. Dean attempted to grab hold of his own neglected cock before Crowley slapped his hand away with a growl. The human whimpered, but Crowley gripped his cock firmly and began pumping his fist in time with his thrusts.

They were both steadily growing louder. "Oh god!" Dean shouted. "I'm-"

"Don't you dare," Crowley growled, gripping hold of the base of his cock.

"Crowley-!"

"Show that you respect me, Dean."

Dean whimpered slightly, his grip on Crowley tightening as he attempted to pull him closer. Crowley continued to thrust into him roughly before he came with a groan, releasing his hold on Dean and allowing him to come as well. Cum flowed over his hand and Dean's stomach as the human moaned at finally being able to release.

Crowley sighed and pulled out of him, rolling off to the side and collapsing on his back. "Well, that wasn't how I had expected that to go."

Not knowing what to say, still trying to wrap his head around what had just happened, Dean hesitated before rolling onto his side and draping an arm over Crowley's waist. He leaned in, pressing his lips to his jaw.

Crowley froze momentarily before wrapping an arm around Dean. "I thought you were straight?" he asked with a smirk.

Dean groaned and buried his face in the demon's shoulder. "I am."

"Then you must have a different definition from the rest of the world." His hand slid down and squeezed his ass teasingly.

"This is a one-time deal, it's not like it means anything."

"Right…" he muttered skeptically. He, at least, didn't want this to be a one-time deal. He had enjoyed himself far more than he had anticipated.

They were both silent for a few moments before Dean spoke again softly. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"Letting me stay here, giving me a distraction."

He chuckled softly. "Go to sleep, Dean. If you're thanking me, you're obviously sleep deprived."

"I don't want to," he muttered.

"And why not?"

For whatever reason, and maybe it was sleep deprivation, Dean felt like being honest. "I'll have nightmares about today, I know it."

Crowley hesitated for barely a second before he placed a finger on Dean's forehead. "There, now you'll have a night of dreamless sleep."

Dean looked up at him in surprise and suspicion. "At what cost?"

"Let's just say you've already paid it. Now go to sleep."

Dean smiled slightly, pressing a kiss to Crowley's shoulder before he buried his face against him once again and fell asleep.


	2. Whatever Makes You Feel Bette

Crowley kept his promise and Dean had a night of dreamless sleep, sleeping better than he had in a very long time. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time that he had woke up feeling so content. At least, he felt content until he realized that he was laying in the arms of the most powerful demon that he knew. What the fuck had he done? He slowly removed his arm from around Crowley, attempting to roll away from him.

"You're not trying to sneak out on me, are you?" Crowley asked, looking down at Dean with a vaguely amused expression.

Dean sighed. "Like there's anyway that would work," he muttered, rolling onto his back and glaring up at the ceiling.

Crowley chuckled and leaned in to press his lips to Dean's jaw, causing the human to stiffen. "What's wrong?" he murmured, trailing his lips up to his ear. "You didn't mind last night."

"I was drunk," he growled.

"You weren't that drunk." He slide a hand down over his chest. "Actually, you were quite amazing."

That caused Dean to turn his head towards him in surprise, which was exactly what he wanted. Crowley captured his lips with his, kissing him fiercely. Dean didn't return the kiss, but he also didn't push him away. Crowley smirked as he pulled away. "How about you get yourself cleaned up and I'll make us some breakfast?"

"Are you serious?"

"Well, you are covered in cum. I figured you'd want a shower."

"Fine," he snapped. "You'd better be a good cook." He slid out of bed and walked across the room to the bathroom.

Crowley smiled to himself as he cleaned himself up with a snap of his fingers and put on a robe before making his way to the kitchen. He wasn't sure what was compelling him to make breakfast, apparently he still felt like being nice to the hunter in his bathroom. He worked on making bacon and eggs while Dean worked on scrubbing himself in the shower.

After a rather long shower, Dean stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He still didn't know what Crowley had done with his clothes, but that concern flew out of his mind as soon as he caught his reflection in the mirror. His neck and collarbone were covered in large, very noticeable hickeys.

"Crowley!" Dean growled as he stormed out of the bathroom to find that the demon had already reentered the room with a tray of food. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at Dean's outburst. "What the hell?!" he demanded, motioning to his neck.

"What? I think you look quite nice covered in my marks."

"I can't turn up at Lisa's looking like this!"

"Why not? Don't want to admit to her that you enjoy sleeping with demons in your spare time?" Dean just glowered at him. "Relax, they will fade. You are welcome to stay here until they do, if you want."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "That sounds like a horrible idea."

Crowley shrugged. "I think it sounds fun." He smirked as he set the tray down on the bed.

"Sounds to me like I'll keep getting more and end up having to stay longer," he muttered.

"I might be able to hold myself back."

Dean eyed him suspiciously for a moment before deciding. "As soon as they fade, I'm out of here."

"Sure you are. Now are you going to eat or not?"

"I'd like to get dressed first."

"How unfortunate." He snapped his fingers and Dean was once again wearing the clothes he had arrived in. "Better?"

"Thanks." He climbed back onto the bed and grabbed a piece of bacon off of one of the plates. "You make breakfast in bed for everyone you sleep with?"

"Not really," Crowley admitted as he sat down beside him and started in on his eggs.

"Why me, then?"

"Because you're pathetic."

Dean just rolled his eyes and Crowley realized that he actually believed him. He looked down at his food, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He wasn't sure why, but he felt weird about that. Surely it wasn't _guilt_ that he was feeling, but he didn't know what else it could be. He took another bite of his food to keep from admitting that that wasn't true.

"Well, I have stuff to do," Crowley said once they had finished eating and he had cleaned up. "I'm a very busy demon, after all. Feel free to make yourself at home."

"It goes against everything I believe to let you just go about your business."

"But you said that you're going to stop hunting, so it's not your job to stop me." Before Dean could protest, he grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss, vanishing immediately after.

Dean cursed himself silently for wishing the kiss had lasted longer before making his way to the living room and collapsing on the couch.

* * *

><p>Crowley had had a very long day. With Lucifer gone Hell was in shambles and he was taking it on himself to put it back together. Of course, he was doing it for his own personal gain – he had been Lilith's second in command, and it only made sense for him to be king now. The problem was, most demons had been supporters of Lucifer and now he had to fight to bring them over to his side. He had a few supporters, but he needed more before he could make any kind of difference.<p>

He walked into the apartment, his mind going in so many directions that he didn't spare a thought for Dean – at least, until his saw him sitting on the couch, masturbating while watching porn. Crowley smirked as he snuck up behind him and pressed his lips to his ear. "Trying to reassure yourself of your sexuality?" he purred before kissing his jaw.

Dean, already so close to orgasm, came with a gasp, his head arching back into Crowley.

Crowley's smirk grew wider. "I guess that's not working too well." He hopped over the back of the couch, settling beside Dean who had turned a glare on him. "What?" he asked innocently.

"That was just bad timing."

"Whatever makes you feel better." He glanced at the TV for a few seconds before leaning closer to Dean. "But I can do so much more for you than she could."

"I doubt it," Dean growled through clenched teeth.

Crowley arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Excuse me? Did you hear yourself last night?"

Dean blushed.

"Tell me I wasn't the best sex you've ever had."

His blush only deepened and he turned away without a word, giving Crowley all the answer he needed. He smirked and pressed his lips to his neck. "That's what I thought."

Dean's hand shot out rather suddenly and he grabbed hold of the remote, clicking the TV off before he turned his attention to the demon, pushing him back to lay down on the couch. "And yet you're the one who keeps bringing it up," he snarled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was the best sex _you've_ ever had."

Crowley allowed Dean to push him back, smiling an amused smile. "I'm not denying anything. You exceeded my expectations, Dean Winchester."

Dean stared at him in surprise for a moment. Despite what he'd said, he hadn't expected that it was true – after all, Crowley had been around for a while and had surely been with quite a few people. Once again, he came to a quick decision that wasn't necessarily a good one. He climbed on top of the demon and kissed him fiercely. Crowley immediately returned the kiss, his hands coming up to grasp Dean's short hair. They kissed until Dean needed to pull back for some air, but then he quickly turned his attention to his neck. Crowley moaned, tilting his head back, until he felt Dean's teeth scrape against his skin. His hand shot to Dean's throat, gripping tightly and pushing him back.

"What the hell?" Dean gasped as best he could.

_"You_ do not get to mark _me,"_ Crowley snarled.

"It serves you right!"

"I'm a demon – I don't care." He released his throat, though he continued to glare. "Try that again and I won't respond so nicely."

Dean sighed but relented, pressing just his lips to Crowley's neck.

* * *

><p>It lasted a week. One week of Dean pretending that sex with Crowley wasn't the best thing he'd ever experienced, and yet continuing to do it anyway. One week of Crowley teasing and insulting Dean, and yet ensuring that he didn't have nightmares and had everything that he needed. At the end of the week Dean walked into the living room to see Crowley sitting on the couch reading a book with a Latin title that he couldn't read.<p>

"I'm leaving," he announced.

Crowley looked up in surprise, trying to ignore the clenching of his stomach. He forced a small smile. "Just because I'm reading a book instead of fucking you? That's little dramatic, don't you think?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No, I'm going to Lisa's, just like I said I was going to from the beginning."

"You really think that you'll be able to live happily with her after all we've done?"

"Yes. For one, I don't hate her and don't have to fight the urge to kill her every time I see her."

Well, that hurt more than he would ever admit. "Fine then. Go. I'm not stopping you. Don't know why you even felt the need to announce it." He turned back to his book.

Dean hesitated before walking around to stand in front of him. "I want to thank you…"

"For helping you realize that you're bisexual? My pleasure," he muttered without looking up.

Dean snatched the book from him and tossed it over his shoulder. "For helping me."

Crowley sighed. "If you're looking for a touching moment complete with a hug, you're not getting it. You might as well leave." He looked at Dean coldly, something that caught the human off guard a bit – he hadn't look at him like that in a while.

"Fine," he eventually muttered before turning and walking out the door.

Crowley watched him with a glare that slipped away the second the door closed between them. He was being ridiculous, but that knowledge didn't stop him from hurting. He had actually began to grow quite fond of the elder Winchester, had even forgotten that he had never been intending to stay with him. Oh well, it wasn't like it mattered. He was becoming the king of Hell, and he had a kingdom to rule.


	3. Keep Pretending

As much as Crowley missed Dean (though he would never admit it), he had his hands full with Hell. Of course, he did stay posted on what the Winchester was up to, learning the moment he reunited with his brother and started hunting again. After that, it became even easier to keep an eye on him, as Sam was working for him without realizing it. He knew he would probably have a reunion with his past lover sooner or later, and he was looking forward to it more than he would admit. What he hadn't expected was for it to be with Dean holding a lighter over his bones, threatening to kill him.

In all honesty, Dean was reluctant to kill the demon who had been there for him when he had needed it, despite how much he knew it should be done, but he was determine to act the part. And he did manage to convince everyone, Crowley included, who decided that if Dean wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between them, then he could too. He refused to admit that he felt betrayed – simply pretending that he hated him just as much as he hated every other hunter. He pretended not to feel hurt every time Dean made a move against him, pretended to find it easy to try to kill him, pretended not to mourn when he was sent to Purgatory, and pretended not to feel relief when he came back in one piece. Eventually, though, he needed the hunter's help and he couldn't pretend any longer.

"What's the matter, Dean?" he asked as he rode shotgun in the hunter's Impala on the way to Missouri. He had managed to get him to agree to help him find the First Blade in order to kill Abaddon, the bitch who was trying to take over Hell, but naturally, the hunter seemed less than thrilled about it. "It almost seems like you don't want to be alone with me."

Dean's hands clenched on the steering wheel. He wanted to just pretend that Crowley wasn't there, to not think about him at all, but that was rather difficult when he kept talking. "Well, you are a demon. And in case you didn't notice, I hunt demons."

"Oh, believe me, I've noticed," he muttered, glaring out his side window. "But it's not like we've had sex or anything," he pointed out, turning back to him. The words had just kind of slipped out, but he didn't regret them. It felt good to finally say something about it.

Dean blanched, the car swerving into the other lane momentarily.

"Watch it!" Crowley cautioned.

"Then don't say stuff like that!" Dean shouted as he regained control of the car.

"I'm just stating a fact. We may pretend like it never happened, but that doesn't change the fact that it did."

"Well, I'd prefer we keep pretending, if you don't mind."

Crowley was silent for a few moments, torn between shouting that he did mind and saying that he couldn't agree more. "Why?" he finally asked.

"Well, for starters, you've tried to kill me-"

"You tried to kill me first!" To Crowley's horror, some of the pain he felt slipped into is voice and he turned away from him again.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath at his tone, unsure if he was interpreting him correctly, and even less sure if he wanted to be right. "That was for Bobby," he muttered quietly.

Crowley looked back over at him, not sure what to say to that. "Well, it still wasn't appreciated."

"And what? It hurt your feelings?" Dean had meant for his voice to sound more accusing, but instead it came across as a question.

Crowley forced a laugh. "Right. You really think that you could have that effect on me?" Yes.

"Of course not," Dean sighed. "I'm just trying to figure out where you're going with this."

"I'm just saying that I was perfectly justified in trying to kill you because you tried to kill me first."

"Right," Dean muttered.

They spent the rest of the car ride in a rather awkward silence, both lost in their thoughts. Crowley was trying to blame his feelings for Dean on his current addiction to human blood; the problem with that theory was, they weren't exactly recent, the blood just made them harder to deny. Dean's mind was reeling with everything Crowley had said – he had almost sounded, well, like there was another reason that Dean trying to kill him bothered him other than just his sense of self-preservation. One thing was for sure, pretending was almost out of the question after this.

"I'll find the blade and bring it to its new owner," Crowley said a few hours later, after an interesting confrontation with Cain. He was about to disappear before Dean spoke.

"Crowley… how about you be honest for once?" Crowley turned towards him with raised eyebrows. "When I left, you seemed like you couldn't care less… was that an act?" He couldn't believe he was asking, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I changed my mind."

"Fine. I may have grown a bit – attached to having you around. You were a good fuck, but that doesn't mean it was anything more than that."

"That's not a real answer."

"I'm not having this conversation with you in a car – there's no telling when you're going to swerve into the other lane and get yourself killed. And I need you alive." He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the best he could come up with.

Dean turned into a parking lot, pulling into a space and turning off the car. Crowley looked up at the motel in front of them. "Classy."

"Shut up." Dean climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and Crowley followed after him. "I need a room for the night," he said when he reached the front desk.

"One bed or two?" the man asked.

Dean hesitated for a split second. "One."

"Well, aren't you confident?" Crowley commented after Dean had gotten the key and turned back to him. A small part of him wanted to leave just to piss Dean off, but he was far too excited about where this might be going.

"I never said that you're staying the night. We just need to talk."

Crowley rolled his eyes as he followed Dean to the room without a word, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say. As the door shut behind him, he walked over and laid down in the middle of the bed.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"I'm just making myself comfortable."

"Yeah? Well, scoot." Crowley moved over and Dean sat down beside him. "You used me today."

"I knew you could handle it. But come on, Dean, that's not what you really want to talk about. Why don't you just say it? You miss me." He may be unsure on whether or not he really wanted to talk about this, but that was all the more reason for him to take control of the conversation, turning it around on Dean.

"Missing you and missing the sex are two different things."

"I never said they weren't." He looked over at Dean for a second before leaning in and kissing him briefly, hoping that giving into the temptation would make this conversation easier. "There's a reason you agreed to help me today. As much as you try to deny it, you like my company."

Dean leaned slightly closer, following Crowley's lips as he pulled back so that his lips hovered millimeters away from the demon's. "And there's a reason you asked me to come, and it wasn't just because you knew I could get the Mark of Cain."

"Wishful thinking, perhaps." He pushed Dean back and rolled on top to straddle him, smirking broadly down at him. "But you do look so gorgeous beneath me."

Dean grabbed Crowley by the tie and yanked him roughly down until their lips collided. A slight groan escaped the demon as he kissed Dean fiercely, his hands pulling at his shirt. His lips left Dean's, kissing along his jaw and neck as he began unbuttoning his shirt. Oh, this was far better than talking about their feelings

"I know you can get our clothes off faster than this, Crowley," Dean muttered.

"You're so bossy," Crowley chuckled, but snapped his fingers, causing both of their clothes to disappear. His lips immediately moved to Dean's bare chest, his tongue flicking over his nipple and causing him to moan. "Please tell me you haven't been with any other men since me."

"Well…" Crowley's head snapped up, his expression both angry and incredulous. Dean noticed and immediately began to backtrack. "It doesn't really count, though. It was in Purgatory."

"Who the hell did you…? _Castiel?"_ Crowley growled. He shouldn't be surprised by that, but he had really hoped that the infatuation was only on Castiel's part. All those times he had mentioned Dean during the time that they were working together, Crowley had really just wanted to shout at him that he was the one who had slept with him – the only thing that stopped him was that he knew that Dean would want to keep it a secret.

"No. No! A vampire… Benny."

Crowley raise his eyebrows, calming down a bit. "A vampire? Really? If you were into your blood being sucked, you could have just said." With that, he bit down just above Dean's collarbone, hard enough to draw blood. Dean gasped as Crowley grabbed his shoulder tightly and began lapping up his blood. Crowley moaned – human blood really better served his addiction when it was injected, but this still had a decent impact on him. He eventually drew back and looked up at Dean smugly. "Is that what you like, Dean?"

Dean reached up and ran a hand though Crowley's thin hair. "I'm not going to say no."

Crowley pressed his lips to Dean's briefly. "So is your little vampire still in Purgatory?"

"Yes." He didn't need to go into the details.

"Good."

"Why? Are you jealous?" The idea of Crowley being jealous over him made him grin.

"Possessive, there's a difference."

He reached down, wrapping his hand firmly around Dean's cock. Dean arched off the bed with a groan, his hands shooting up and he grabbed hold of Crowley's waist with one while the other wrapped around the back of his neck. He distinctly remembered the last time he had attempted to mark Crowley, but now he wanted to for different reasons – and if he let him, then that would as good as confirm a theory that was forming in the back of his mind. He pulled the demon down, kissing his neck before he bit down. Crowley groaned, grinding his hips down against him. Dean sucked in a sharp breath before repeating the action.

"Fuck, Dean," Crowley groaned, stroking his cock faster.

Dean groaned, thrusting up into his hand. "Yes, I do wish you would."

He released his cock, covering his fingers with lube before he thrust two slick fingers into Dean's tight hole. Dean gave a shout, grabbing hold of Crowley's cock and pumping in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Crowley groaned and began pumping harder and faster, adding another finger after a minute.

Dean moaned, arching off the bed. "Crowley!"

Crowley bent down and pressed his lips to Dean's chest before biting down. Dean released Crowley's cock and reached around him to dig his fingers into his back. Crowley continued biting along Dean's chest as he pumped is fingers into him.

"Tell me how much you missed this," Crowley growled between bites.

"Fuck!" Dean called out as Crowley's fingers hit his prostate. "I missed this," he gasped.

"No one can fuck you like I can."

"Maybe you should get on with it and prove that."

Crowley growled, pulling his fingers out and bringing his hand up to wrap around Dean's throat. "Or maybe I should leave you wanting until you admit that your little Purgatory fling doesn't come close to comparing to me." Yeah, so maybe he was jealous, and he had never been one for handling jealousy well.

Dean just smirked, meeting Crowley's eyes in a challenge. "I don't know… you seem to be slacking right now."

Crowley's hand tightened in warning as he ground down against Dean, rubbing their cocks together.

Dean groaned. "Prove it," he repeated.

"Admit it!"

"What if it's not true?"

"Is it?" Crowley hissed.

Dean looked away, and though Crowley would never admit it, he got a bit nervous. Suddenly, Dean grabbed Crowley by the back of the head and pulled him into a deep kiss. Crowley moaned against Dean's lips as he returned the kiss. By the time Crowley pulled away, Dean was surprised just how much the kiss had increased his arousal, and he couldn't wait any longer.

"Fuck me," he breathed.

"Say it," Crowley ordered, though he was already applying lube to his cock.

"Crowley…" Dean sighed, pressing his hips up against him desperately. "No one compares to you."

Without further ado, Crowley thrust into him with a deep groan, and Dean gave a shout of pleasure, his back arching off the bed. Crowley set a fast, rough pace that satisfied the desperation that Dean wasn't alone in.

"Oh, Dean," Crowley groaned. "You feel so bloody amazing."

Dean grasped Crowley's ass with one hand, pulling him closer, while the other cupped the back of his head, pulling him down to bite and suck on his collarbone. Just the effect he was having on the King of Hell made him feel amazing, and with Crowley's actions on top of that, he was quickly sent over the edge. He came with a groan, and Crowley followed suit a few thrusts later.

Crowley sighed as he rolled off of Dean, onto his back. "Fuck, it's been too long," he sighed.

Dean turned his head to the side on his pillow to look at him. "Since you've had sex in general? Or was that statement exclusive to me?"

Crowley gave a small grin. "It was just you."

"So… are you staying?"

"I thought you indicated that I wasn't invited to stay the night? We just needed 'to talk.'"

"Well, that was before we had sex… again."

"So this really wasn't your intent, then?"

"No."

"Hmm…" Crowley hummed thoughtfully. Dean had almost acted like this had been his intent, and maybe a part of Crowley had hoped that it was, for more reason than one. There was the obvious reason that he wanted sex, and then there was the added benefit of knowing that Dean wanted him without having to have an awkward conversation about their feelings. But whether that had been the main goal or not, it had clearly worked out, and Dean clearly wanted him.

"You can stay if you want," Dean continued.

Crowley met his eyes. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I'm open to it."

"But do you _want_ me to, Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Yes."

"Then I'll stay." He rolled over to his side and reached out to wrap his arms around Dean, pulling his body against his. Habits from his week living with Dean still ingrained in him, he brushed his fingers lightly over Dean's forehead to prevent him from dreaming. "Goodnight, Dean," he said softly, and Dean was out before he could manage a response.


	4. Just Wondering

The first thing that Dean was aware of upon waking up was that he was alone, and it took him a minute to remember why that was so disappointing. Right, Crowley. Damn, he was an idiot. He had tried so hard to get that week spent with the demon out of his head, to get rid of any lingering feelings that it had caused, and then he had gone and thrown it all away. And what had come of it? Crowley was probably somewhere laughing that he had the infamous hunter wrapped around his finger. Nothing good was ever going to come of this.

Dean rolled into a sitting position with a groan. He was sore, ashamed of himself, and honestly hurt that Crowley had just left while he was sleeping. He was about to get up when a folded piece of paper on the nightstand caught his eye. He picked it up to see a note written on it.

_Gone to search for the blade. I'll be in touch._

_x Crowley_

Dean grinned at the note in spite of himself, putting it with his stuff before heading to the shower. Maybe it would all work out… doubtful, but he could hope.

Despite Crowley's note with the promise to be in touch, weeks passed with no word from the demon. Dean began calling him, admittedly a bit worried. Sam poked fun at him over how often he was leaving voicemails for the King of Hell, but he just insisted that he needed to get the First Blade so he could kill Abaddon. Really, though, Sam had a point with his teasing – he just wanted to know that Crowley was okay.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he finally got a voicemail from the demon. Although, it wasn't exactly reassuring. He was obviously drunk, and not much could be understood aside from Dean's name. The next day, he got another, this one was a bit more coherent, and Dean couldn't help but listen it several times over.

"Dean… I-I have to talk to you…. You're important… I mean, this is important…. Well, so are you… important and sexy and… and… brave. But stupid!... You-you don't even know that I like you, do you? Well, I do…. We're like Romeo and Juliet with a-a forbidden romance… and I just want to make things right, you know? Me… you… it's…" For a few moments it was impossible to make out what he said, no matter how hard Dean tried. "I named my hell hound Juliet for you…. Oh, Dean… miss you… want to fuck you…. You deserve better, though… I don't know why you hate yourself… I'm way worse…. Please don't leave me Dean, I need you, I-" And with that, the voicemail clicked off.

It was still a few more days before Dean actually managed to answer one of Crowley's phone calls. He still didn't sound good, and he said that he was in a jam and needed help. Worried, Dean found out where he was, and he and Sam went to his hotel room. Dean shouldn't have been surprised when he found two dead bodies, one guy drained of blood in the closet and one woman lying dead on the living room floor – Crowley was a demon, after all. Still, Dean felt a sick feeling rising in his stomach at the sight and he wondered once again what the hell he was doing.

"He had better know where the blade is," Sam muttered as they took in the sight. "Because we need to get it and kill him with it."

Dean looked away without commenting. He knew that Sam was right, these people, whoever they may be, were dead because of Crowley. But Dean still didn't want anything bad to happen to the demon.

They looked up at the door as Crowley entered, holding a rather suspicious looking paper bag in one hand. And the truth came out. Crowley was addicted to human blood because it made him feel human. The boy in the closet had been used for blood, and the woman on the ground was a demon that Crowley had been relying on to help him, but had turned on him. Oddly enough, what bothered Dean the most about the story was that Crowley had turned to this Lola rather than to him. Well, that and the fact the she might have told Abaddon about the First Blade, so now they had to worry about finding it before she did.

They brought Crowley back to the bunker to detox, and so that they could find out what he knew. Dean helped Sam get Crowley set up in the dungeon, then left Sam to get information from him, hardly giving Crowley a second glance. He didn't want to admit it, but he was hurt and he didn't think that he could stand to be in the same room with him at the moment.

"Where's Dean?" Crowley eventually asked in the middle of explaining to Sam how he had tracked the blade.

Sam looked up from his laptop, his eyes narrowing at the demon. "That's not your concern."

"Seeing as he's the one I need to kill Abaddon, I think it is."

"He's fine, and that's all you need to know. Now-"

"He didn't want to be here for my interrogation?"

"No, he doesn't want to be anywhere around you, and neither do I, but one of us had to do this."

Crowley looked down, trying to keep the hurt out of his eyes. Of course, he had been stupid to think that one night had changed anything. He looked around the plain dungeon room that he had once been too familiar with, casting around for something to get his mind off Dean.

"You could have at least added some throw pillows," he muttered.

"Crowley, focus!"

Crowley sighed as he continued on with the story of the blade, but his mind was elsewhere. Why was he so hung up on Dean? He was the bloody King of Hell, and he had a weak spot for the most deadly hunter there was. Was it just because of the human blood? He wanted to say yes, but somehow he knew that wasn't true. He liked Dean Winchester, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change that.

However, it seemed that Dean didn't want anything to do with him, unless it was just a good, meaningless fuck on occasion. Who would have thought that Crowley would be the one of them that wanted more? He wasn't sure what he wanted, but he knew that he wanted more than just sex. But how was he supposed to admit that to Dean? All he could think of that he could do right now was do everything he could to help them. Unfortunately, that meant that he would probably have to warm up to Sam too. He wasn't too fond of the younger Winchester who was always more than willing to stick his knife in him, but if he wanted Dean, he would have to get close to Sam.

Eventually, Dean walked back into the room, his eyes lingering on Crowley for a moment before settling on Sam. "We just going to sit here all day, or do we have something?"

"I think I know who we need to get in contact with," Sam said, getting to his feet.

"Good. Let's get on it." Without another look at Crowley, he turned and began to walk out, Sam right behind him.

"Dean," Crowley called after him.

Dean stopped, turning his head slightly without really looking at him "What?"

"I can help."

"We'll see." He continued walking, closing the door behind them.

"I don't like his interest in you," Sam muttered once the door was shut.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"He was asking about you, and you're always the one he wants to talk to."

Dean turned away slightly to hide a grin that he couldn't suppress. "Well, I am the one with the Mark," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I guess. I still don't like it, though."

Dean quickly changed the subject back to the blade, and they came up with a plan that actually did involve Crowley. They ended up tracing the blade back to a former Men of Letters member. Getting it could have gone better – he had wanted to add Dean to his collection, and the only reason they got out was because Crowley freed Dean while Magnus was distracted by Sam.

As they walked back to the Impala, Crowley was feeling quite good about everything. If it hadn't been for him, the Winchesters wouldn't have succeeded. Surely that earned him some favor with them. But then he heard Sam's words to Dean.

"We said that Crowley was only useful until we got the blade," he said in an undertone. "We have the blade."

'We said…' The words echoed in Crowley's mind – Dean had agreed about that. Well, it looked like he couldn't count on anyone. He sprang into action, pinning them both against the car, causing Dean to drop he blade.

Dean's eyes widened as his back slammed against the Impala. What was Crowley doing? Did he really think that he was going to kill him? He was going to have to come up with some excuse for Sam, but he wasn't going to hurt him. He watched Crowley grab the blade, saying how he couldn't trust them, and then disappear, a sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn't believe that he was feeling bad for making a demon feel betrayed, but he was.

"Great," Sam muttered. "We still don't have the blade."

"We'll get it back," Dean said, walking around to get into the driver's seat. "We just need to find Abaddon."

As soon as they got back to the bunker, Dean threw himself into research, desperate to find the knight. Days passed with nothing to show for it, and Sam wasn't much of a help. He even went off on a hunt, and Dean didn't get why he couldn't see that finding Abaddon was a priority. And now he was on his own, running low on beer, and the words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur together.

He sighed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, not thinking much about his actions as he pulled up Crowley's name and pressed call. A moment after he did that, he wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Crowley was mad at him and thought he couldn't trust him, so why would he want to help him? He hung up and got to his feet, deciding to just go to the bar instead.

Crowley, meanwhile, was in a meeting with a demon. The irritation he felt at his phone ringing immediately disappeared as soon as he saw who the caller was. He may have hung up before he got a chance to answer, but he had still called.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this meeting short," he said, looking back up at the demon with a slight smile. "More important matters have risen."

He appeared behind Dean in time to hear him telling Sam that he was busy trying to find Abaddon. He chuckled to himself as he rested his head on the back of Dean's seat. "You're lying to Sam like he's your wife… which, kind of makes me your mistress."

Dean sucked in a breath at the familiar voice, looking around at the demon and hating how happy he was to see him. "Seriously?"

"Well, you have to admit, there is a resemblance."

Dean rolled his eyes as he stood up, walking over to the pool table, more to have something to do than because he actually wanted to play. "What do you want?" he muttered as he set it up.

"You tell me, Romeo. You rang. Let me guess – you butt-dialed me?"

"Whatever the hell that is," Dean muttered, keeping up his usual pretense before sighing. He finally looked up at Crowley, meeting his eyes. "Didn't think you would come."

Crowley walked closer, resting his hand on Dean's hip. "Did you want me to?"

"Yes."

"Then let's have a drink." He smirked and walked over to the bar, taking a seat and ordering them both a drink.

A moment later, Dean sat in the seat to his right. "You know, you didn't have to take the blade," he muttered.

Crowley looked at him, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I never know when you're going to try to kill me. It has happened before."

"For Bobby," Dean nearly growled. "Besides, I knew you would concede."

"How sweet," Crowley muttered, looking away.

"Look, Sam is the one who thinks we should kill you, not me."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"I don't care if you believe it or not," Dean sighed.

"Right." Crowley muttered. "Anyway, why are you here, Dean? Last time we talked, we agreed that you were going to line up Carrot Top."

Dean looked away from Crowley, not liking this topic of conversation much better than the last. "Yep, well… I'm on it."

"Unless Abaddon likes 10-cent wings, stale beer, and the clap, I doubt that she's here. What's going on with you, huh? You call me, you hang up. You want Abaddon, you don't want Abaddon. You want the Blade, you don't want the Blade. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're stalling."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean took a drink of his beer as if that would get him away from this conversation. He didn't want to talk about this with anyone, especially not the demon that he had the 'it's complicated' relationship with.

But Crowley knew there was something going on, and so he was going to keep pressing the matter. He wanted to help Dean. Sure, he needed him in good form for when he went up against Abaddon, but he also cared about him. "Just between us girls, how did you feel when you sunk the First Blade into Magnus' head?"

"No different from any of the other times I've killed people."

"See, now you're lying. You know what I think? I think you felt powerful...virile...and afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Don't scam a scam artist, darling. You're stalling 'cause you're scared."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know that Cain gave you his Mark for a reason. And I know that rather than embracing it, rather than looking at it as the gift that it is, you're sulking like you lost your knuffle bunny. Why are you fighting what you really are?"

"I'm a hunter."

"Who's a chip off the old Mark of Cain."

"No. When I kill, I kill for a reason. I'm nothing like Cain."

"Nothing like – who are you talking to? I know you're not talking to me. I saw you. I saw the two of you together. Nothing like Cain? What's in that bottle? Delusion? I'm really starting to worry about you, Dean."

"Yeah, well, why don't you worry about yourself?" After all, Crowley was the one who was having his demons turn against him – who was number one on the rising queen's 'to kill' list.

"I will. 'Cause like it or not, we're in this together. Your problems, my problems... our problems." This was going nowhere, and Crowley had had just about enough of it. There was still one more thing that he wanted to figure out tonight, but he knew that he wouldn't get any honest answers from this conversation. So he had a little experiment planned. He got to his feet and started toward the bathroom.

"Where are you going now?"

"I'm going to go water the lily. Care to cross streams?" He turned and continued walking, signaling to the demon he had sitting a few seats down to spring into action.

It was something that Crowley had been thinking about a lot lately, and when he got the phone call from Dean today, he had made his decision. He needed to know if Dean really did care about him, so he had one of his demons pretending to be a hunter who was going to try to kill him.

Crowley stood next to the door, listening as Dean stopped the demon, persuading him not to pick a fight with him. He smiled as Dean knocked on the door, telling him to hurry up. Dean Winchester had just saved his life (or thought he did, anyway), and that made him even happier than he had anticipated that it would.

A minute later, he met Dean outside the bar. Dean turned to look at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Demons don't take leaks. Next time you want to shoot up, why don't you find a better excuse?"

"Guilty as charged," Crowley lied, deciding not to tell Dean what he had really been up to.

"What happened? I thought you were cleaning up your act."

"Well, I was going to, but then after very little soul-searching, I decided to embrace my addiction."

"Yes, because that worked so well last time."

"Worried about me?"

"I just don't want you turning to another demon whore who will cause more problems for us."

"Oh, so it's jealousy then, is it?"

"Shut up."

"So, how long is moose out of town for?"

"However long this job takes," Dean said, arching an eyebrow.

"So you have the place to yourself tonight?"

"Are you trying to get me to invite you over? After you just accused me of wanting to kill you?"

"I would like to apologize for my rude accusation."

"No, you would like to have sex with me."

"Well, that too."

Dean sighed, turning to face him. "Answer me something. What is this to you? Some kind of game? Because if so, I'm done playing."

"If you think that this is just a game to me, you're more of an idiot than some of the demons I know."

"What is it, then?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Then I suppose I'll pass on the sex tonight. Call me when you find Abaddon." He began to turn away.

"Wait," Dean stopped him. "At least tell me why you turned to that demon that betrayed you. I mean, if you wanted sex…. And you wouldn't even answer my phone calls."

Crowley turned back to him with a small smile. "So, it is jealousy. Dean, I was in horrible condition – basically useless. And I was using Lola. You should be flattered that I didn't want to use you, that I didn't want you to see me like that." He abruptly stopped talking, realizing that he had said too much.

Dean breathed in a deep breath. So Crowley really wasn't just using him, then. "Back to my place then?"

And so an hour later found Crowley breathing hard as he rolled off of Dean. "We have got to stop having these long breaks between sex, it's killing me."

Dean laughed. "This time it was your fault." He rolled over onto his side, reaching out to brush his fingers over one of the marks he had left on Crowley's neck. "And at least you've gotten it elsewhere."

"Oh, we're still on this, are we? Would it make you feel any better if I said it was just her?"

"A bit."

"And I wanted it to be you, it was just what I needed at the time."

"You seem to be in pretty good shape now for someone who's still shooting up."

"I've managed to reign myself in – I'm in control of my addiction."

"That's something, at least." He hesitated before bringing up what had been on his mind for far too long now. "When you were all messed up… you left me some voicemails."

"Did I? I don't remember much."

"Well, I was just wondering if you meant what you said…."

"To answer that, I would have to remember what I said."

"I have it saved," he muttered as he reached for his phone, dialing his voicemail.

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Must have been quite the message. Do tell me you listened to it in your alone time."

"Shut up and listen to it," he said, shoving the phone into Crowley's hand.

The demon's eyes grew wide as he listened to the voicemail, unable to believe that he had been stupid enough to confess all of this. "You're asking me if I have feelings for you?" he asked as he handed the phone back to Dean a minute later.

"Yeah… yeah, I guess so."

"And the fact that you saved that message tells me that you want me to."

"I was just curious about it," he protested half-heartedly. "I mean, it's not even possible for demons to like someone like that, right? And even if you do, it's just because of the human blood."

"If only that were the case," he muttered with a sigh. "I do like you, Dean. I have for… well, since before I started human blood."

"Before you started human blood…"

"We were still trying to kill each other. Yeah, I know. It really made life difficult."

"If you had just _said_ something-"

"You wouldn't have believed me. I was trying to pretend like I didn't have feelings for you, the human blood just made that more difficult. So, what's your excuse for your infatuation with the King of Hell?"

"Well, there was the denial – a lot of denial – and now here we are."

"And where is 'here,' exactly?"

"It sounds like we're in kind of the same boat."

"Would you just say it, Dean? I did."

Dean sighed. "I like you, okay?"

A second later, Crowley had pulled Dean into a kiss. "Does that mean we're boyfriends, then?" he asked as he pulled away with an amused grin.

Dean rolled his eyes. "If that's what you want."

"I want to have the right to rip out the intestines of anyone who even thinks about sleeping with you, and if that means boyfriend, then sure."

Dean grinned. "Are you really that easily jealous?"

"That's me going easy."

"Ok, well how about we tone it down a bit more to only if they try anything?"

Crowley grimaced. "Fine. But the second your little angel makes a move on you, I want to know."

"What?! You're jealous of Cas?"

"With good reason."

"Look, Cas is not going to make a move on me."

"We'll see."

Dean sighed. "Whatever. You know, this also means no more demon whores for you. Or whores of any kind, for that matter."

"Fine by me."

Dean leaned in for another kiss. "Also…" he said as he pulled back. "Sam can't know."

"No, no one can know. I can put out the word to the demons that you're off limits because I need you, but the second they find out the real reason… my rule is in delicate enough balance, as it is."

"Well, I guess we're both idiots for going through with this, then."

"I suppose we both think it's worth the risk."

Dean looked over at Crowley, unable to believe that this was the _King of Hell,_ who was putting him above everything else. It was absolutely ridiculous – this entire ordeal was, and there was no way that it could end in anything but disaster. But Dean also knew that there was no way that he wasn't going to go through with it. Denying his feelings had gotten him nowhere, so now it was time to admit the truth – he liked Crowley and he wanted to be with him, however fucked that made him.


	5. Think About It

"Dean, are you even listening to me?"

Dean's eyes flickered over to his brother, then back to the road. "Of course."

Sam crossed his arms, looking over at Dean with an arched eyebrow. "Then what was I saying?"

"What to do after we kill Abaddon. Personally, I'm thinking a vacation, somewhere-"

"Dean, I'm talking about _Crowley."_

He turned his head slightly away from Sam, afraid that he would catch something in his expression. It had only been a few nights since Crowley and Dean had decided to brave a relationship, but most of those nights involved the demon appearing in Dean's room unannounced and them both trying desperately to keep quiet enough to avoid being caught. As great as everything was going between them now, Dean didn't dare to hope for anything – after all, he knew just how quickly things could go south.

"Right," Dean muttered.

"Look, we get the blade, we kill Abaddon, and that's all great, but what then? We can't just let Crowley walk away."

"We've done it before."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Are you suggesting we let him go?"

"Look, I'm just thinking about the big picture here. We gank Crowley, and then what? Hell falls apart? No. Demons aren't Leviathan and we can't destroy them by killing the top dog."

"And that means we should let him live?"

"Well, someone is going to take his place. We kill Crowley, and who knows who will come up next. I mean, look at who has ruled Hell in the past – yellow-eyes, Lilith, and now Abaddon's trying – I'll take Crowley over any of them any day."

"I'm not saying I don't see your point, Dean, but it's _Crowley._ Have we forgotten everything he's done? What he is?"

"Of course not. I just think we need to come up with a better plan before we kill the one demon who seems to value us more alive than dead." He pulled into the cemetery as he spoke. "Now, let's go dig up the First Blade."

Dean was silently cursing Crowley as he and Sam dug up the grave of the body that Crowley had hid the blade inside. He knew that Crowley was keeping an eye on Abaddon, but couldn't he teleport over to the cemetery really fast and have the blade out with a snap of his fingers? And to make matters worse, there was a hellhound that Dean had to call Crowley to get rid of. All in all, he was very glad when he was back in the car and they were on their way to Crowley and Abaddon. He pulled out his phone, dialing Crowley's number as they took off.

"Squirrel. I hope you were nice to your father," Crowley answered after a couple of rings.

Dean glanced at the phone in surprise. Well, that wasn't exactly how he expected his boyfriend to answer the phone. "What? Shut up. Look, we got the Blade."

"You do? Well, you need to get it here at once. Cleveland, Humboldt Hotel. Penthouse, of course. When you get here, I'll take you to Abaddon. I'll draw her out, and then you can skewer the ignorant hag."

"All right, we're on our way." It suddenly dawned on Dean that this would be the first time that Sam would see him with Crowley since they had stopped pretending to hate each other. This was going to be fun.

"Oh, and, Dean, you need to get a move on. It's a good day's drive from Poughkeepsie."

"What are you talking about? We're not even near there."

"Yeah, like I said, you need to leave Poughkeepsie right away."

Dean hung up the phone. Something was definitely up – Abaddon knew they were coming.

"So, we good?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean lied. Sam may not be too happy later, but he knew what he was doing.

Thoughts of killing Abaddon urged Dean on as he drove to the Humboldt Hotel. It was times like this that Crowley's ability to teleport would really come in handy. He just wanted to kill the bitch already. He finally pulled up outside the hotel, sent Sam to look in the basement, then headed up to the penthouse. As he walked into the room, his eyes immediately found Crowley, sitting in a chair and clearly injured.

"Hello, Dean," Crowley greeted him. "Love the crazy bloodlust in your eyes. Let's not waste time. I'll take you to Abaddon. It's not far."

Dean only managed another step before Abaddon came into view and flung Dean against the wall with just a flick of her wrist. His back hit the wall with bruising force and the blade dropped from his hand as the Knight of Hell smiled at him.

"A boy and his Blade. And still no match for the new queen," she said smugly. "So, first... You'll die... Painfully. And then Crowley will watch his son die - ditto - and then the king himself. And Blade destroyed. That's quite a to-do list."

Son…? Dean pushed the thought away. He couldn't deal with that right now. He had the Mark of Cain, for crying out loud, he could feel how powerful he was, he had to be able to beat her.

He could feel the psychic force of her pinning against the wall and he started fighting against it. Suddenly, the blade shot back up to his hand, and he managed to take a step, then another. His eyes were locked on Abaddon, unable to see anything else as his mind was set on the one task – kill her at all costs. He drew the knife back, and then stabbed it into her stomach. He hardly noticed her dying – just felt the satisfaction of sinking the knife into her flesh. And so he stabbed her again, and again, until Sam's voice broke through the haze.

"Dean. Dean! Dean! Stop! You can stop."

Dean dropped the blade and slowly looked up at Sam, unsure of when he got to the room. Then his gaze moved to Crowley, who was looking at him in surprise over his shoulder. After a couple of seconds, he cleared his throat and got to his feet.

"Well done, Dean," Crowley finally broke the silence. "Now, um, how about a hand? The bitch shot be with a bullet with a devil's trap carved into it – said that I have your grandfather to thank for that clever trick."

Sam shot Dean a questioning look, clearly still thinking about killing him, but Dean just held out his hand. "Your knife would probably be better."

Sam sighed and handed him his knife. Dean stooped to pick up the First Blade and slip it back into his jacket (Sam watching him carefully all the while), then walked around Crowley's chair to hold the knife out to him.

"So… what was Abaddon saying about a son?" he asked as Crowley took the blade.

"What?" Sam asked, walking around.

"She said that after I died, she'd kill his son," Dean clarified without looking away from Crowley.

"Suppose you would pick up on that," Crowley muttered under his breath as he started trying to dig the bullet out with the knife. He had never really wanted to tell Dean about his human life, but he knew there was no way Dean would just forget about what Abaddon had said. He continued in a louder voice. "Gavin. He's from when I was human. Abaddon brought him from the past to use him as leverage."

"And?"

"And she tortured him some, and that's when I called you. I may have been horrible to the kid once upon a time, but I wasn't watching him go through that. He's in the other room now."

"Wow," Sam muttered. "That's… surprising."

Crowley rolled his eyes, working at the bullet a bit more before speaking again. "You could at least - aah! - help me with this."

"We didn't kill you, Crowley, even though it would've been very easy. Isn't that enough?" Moose was clearly still rather kill-happy where he was concerned, Crowley noticed. He wondered how Dean had managed to convince him to let him live.

"You owe me. Do I get no credit for warning you this was a trap?" He glanced at Sam to see him just looking at him in confusion. "'Poughkeepsie' ring a bell?" His gaze flickered between the two of them before quickly realizing that Dean hadn't told Sam about his warning. Oops. "I sense drama."

"I just still can't get over the fact that Crowley has a son," Dean changed the subject. Of all the things that he had thought he might find out about his demon boyfriend, him having a son was certainly not one of them. "How's he doing, by the way?"

"How do you think?" Crowley muttered as he finally pulled the bullet out – painfully.

"You get that he's got to go back, right? To his own time?"

No, Dean could not do that. Surely someone as righteous as him wouldn't send his own boyfriend's son back to his own time just to die. "If the lad goes back, his destiny is to board a ship bound for America. That ship went down in a storm. All hands were lost. He had one chance in this world to change his life. You want that to all end in tragedy?"

Dean felt his heart drop slightly. Well, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He knew better than most what the consequences could be of messing with fate. If a day in the life of Death hadn't taught him that, his encounter with Fate herself certainly had. But he couldn't do that to Crowley. "Those are the rules," he said, trying to remain resolute.

"The lore all says the same thing," Sam backed him up. "You change any one thing in the past, the ripple effect impacts everything that follows."

"Please. No one bends the rules like you two bend the rules. He's one misfit kid. He impacts no one."

Dean had a feeling that if Sam hadn't been there, he would have yielded right then, but Sam continued. "You don't bend that rule, okay? You don't. We'll take him back to the bunker, figure out the spell. That's the way it's got to be."

"Can I at least say goodbye?" Sam and Dean both nodded, so he got to his feet, starting back to the room where Gavin was. "I'll cheer the day when the last trace of humanity leaves me. Feelings," he growled. Sure, there were some feelings that he had realized by this point weren't going anywhere – like his feelings for Dean. And he wasn't so sure that he wanted them to, even though it would make his life significantly easier. And now there was Gavin, who he hadn't even cared for that much as a human, so he didn't really understand what was going on now. What he did know was that he had already screwed up enough with his son, and he was not going to let him die. As soon as Crowley was by Gavin's side, he shut the door and disappeared with him.

Sam and Dean rushed for the door, but by the time they got there, they were both gone. "Damn it, Crowley!" Dean shouted, though he was secretly a bit glad that they had gotten away.

When they finally got back to the bunker, Dean went straight for his room and collapsed on his bed. He felt like he should be exhausted, but he wasn't even tired in the slightest. He knew that he should feel drained, but he felt better than ever. And a part of him knew that that should be a red flag, but would rather not worry about that right now, so he was just going to ignore it. So he just stared up at the ceiling, not even looking when he heard footsteps approaching the bed, though no one had come in through the door.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

Now he turned his head to the side, looking at Crowley. "I'm great. How's the kid?"

Crowley tensed slightly. "He's fine. Off on his own – as he should be."

"Relax, I'm not going to ask where he is. You got him away from us – I'm counting that as a loss."

Crowley chuckled slightly as he climbed into bed beside Dean, resting his elbow on a pillow and propping his head up on his hand to look at him. "I didn't think the great Winchesters had losses."

"You know we do."

"Yes, but nothing major. Whoever dies comes back to life and you live on to kill again."

"Yeah, that does kind of sound like my life."

Crowley leaned in and kissed Dean, wrapping a hand around the back of his head as he slid closer, pressing his body against Dean's. Dean sighed into the kiss as he wrapped a hand around Crowley's waist, pressing his hand against his lower back.

Crowley broke away after a minute. "I suppose I should thank you for today."

Dean chuckled. "Nah, that's not really your style. Besides, I don't need to be thanked for killing a demon – it's kind of my job."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, sliding a hand down over Dean's side. "It shows."

Dean eyes widened slightly as he realized what Crowley was getting at. Damn, was he an idiot. He had been thinking that the biggest problem with him and Crowley being together was that Crowley was a demon. He hadn't thought about the fact that, as King of Hell, all other demons were under his command. So every demon he killed was a strike against Crowley.

"You can't expect me to stop killing demons," he said softly.

"Well, not completely. There's plenty of Abaddon supporters out there that I would be more than happy to see done away with. My demons, however, I would prefer to have alive."

Dean's hand dropped from Crowley's back and he pulled away slightly, Crowley's hand falling to the bed as well. "Crowley, it's my _job."_

"And ruling Hell is my job. It's in delicate enough balance as it is, but if you go about killing off all of my demons-"

"They're demons!"

"So am I!"

Dean took a deep breath. "You're… different."

"True, but as irritating as demons can be, I need them."

"If they hurt people, I kill them – that's the way life works."

"I hurt people… going to kill me now? Or are you waiting until you get your pleasure first?"

"You know that's not what this is about."

"Really? Because that's all it sounds like it could be at this point." Crowley knew that that wasn't the case – that Dean had been honest when he had told him his feelings for him – but he was hoping that he could make him see things differently if he played his cards right. But a large part of him knew it was useless. Dean was right – there was no way that he would ever let his demons live, and Crowley couldn't just stand by as his boyfriend killed them.

"So you're saying that unless I promise not to hurt your precious demons, I'm only in this for the sex?"

Crowley sighed. "No, I'm saying that I don't see how this can work if you run around killing everyone who work for me."

Dean rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling in silence for a minute. "You know, I know you're right, I just don't want to do anything about it."

The corner of Crowley's lips quirked up in a half-smile as he looked down at Dean. It was good to know that he didn't want to give this up, even if there was no hope for them. "You can't be half in and half out, Dean."

"Yeah, I know…." He turned his head to look back at Crowley. "So what am I supposed to do?"

Crowley hesitated a couple of seconds before he got up from the bed, straightening his clothes. Dean pushed himself up slightly, looking at Crowley, clearly worried that he was going to say this was it. "Think about it," he said instead. "Take as long as you need. And call me whenever you've made your decision."

Dean nodded and a second later, Crowley disappeared.

So now Dean just had to figure out a way that he could keep Crowley and while staying true to himself… this was going to be impossible.


End file.
